


Have I Told You Lately

by jagnikjen



Series: The Chronicles of Blake Moran [3]
Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Blake has a hot hockey boyfriend, Holidays, M/M, Texting, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: Blake and Oliver spend their first major holiday together out of sight, but not out of mind.





	

Blake’s grandmother’s house is warm and cozy and smells like turkey and pumpkin pie. The old brick three-story house has bay windows on the front and an enclosed porch on the back with concrete steps leading to a yard only as wide as the house, but twice as long.

He sits in the living room filled with overstuffed chairs and ancient knick knacks, but some of his best childhood memories belong with this house. Thanksgivings, Christmases. Summers running the neighborhood with his cousins chasing fireflies.

His mother sits at the other end of the sofa, knitting needles clicking away. She’s making an afghan for Blake’s cousin who’s expecting a baby in February.

Blake’s phone vibrates in his pocket, the slight buzz making itself known despite the conversation they’re engaged in.

“Surely, your boss doesn’t need you to do something for him today, honey,” says his mother.

He shakes his head. “He’s in Cancun, Mom. It’s probably—” What does he say? He hasn’t shared his non-single status, wanting to hold onto the warm glow he carries around that comes with a new and undisclosed special relationship.

“Probably whom…?” His mother’s eyebrows arch and there’s an expectant look on her face.

He sighs. “Oliver. The guy I’ve been dating.”

Her smile raises goose bumps. “Oh, well, he must be wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving then. Go ahead, read your text, Blake. Then we’ll be having a little chat about this Oliver, _the guy you’ve been dating and haven’t old your mother about_.”

He groans and pulls his feet from the coffee table. Rising, he tugs his phone from his pocket and slips into the kitchen. The joy wells up inside of him, despite the unavoidable third degree that’s coming his way. He and Oliver’d spoken last night for a few minutes before Blake had gotten on the plane.

The text reads: _Happy Thanksgiving. I’m grateful you’re in my life. Wish we were together._

 _Can you talk?_ Blake replies.

The ringing a moment later startles him, but he can’t stop the smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” says Oliver, his voice pitched low. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” Blake steps out into the chilly gray afternoon for a moment. The crisp air feels good against his face, in his lungs. “I ended up mentioning you to my mother. We’re going to ‘have a little chat’ as soon as I hang up. I’m sorry.”

Oliver chuckles. “It’s fine, Blake. I want to meet your family. I don’t want us to be a secret from the whole world. My mother was very pleased to know I had someone.”

Oliver told his mother…that’s nice. Better than nice actually. Oliver telling his mom means Blake’s more than a convenient, consistent source of mind-blowing sex. Or maybe that’s just Blake’s take on their sex life. Oliver hasn’t gone in search of someone else and has told his mother, so that means something anyway.

“Blake?”

“Oliver, I…” _I love you_ sits on the tip of Blake’s tongue. It should be said in person, shouldn’t it? But he feels it so strongly all of a sudden. “This is really bad timing, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Oliver’s breath whooshes across the line, and Blake’s heart sinks.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it? I take it back. Ignore me. Pretend you didn’t—”

“No, Blake, no…I’m pretty sure I’m falling on love with you too.”

Relief makes his knees weak and he leans against the side of the house to stay upright. “Really?” His heart is beating a mile a minute, and Oliver’s falling in love with him.

“Really.”

There’s cheering and loud voices in the background. Someone calls Oliver’s name.

“I have to go, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the fourth, all right?”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Oliver.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Blake.”

Blake stays outside for a few more minutes. He can’t go back inside looking like a loon. Telling his mom about Oliver is one thing, sharing their declarations of love is not happening. It’s not until he's shivering that he slips back into the kitchen. 

His mother hands him a bag of potatoes and a peeler. “Start peeling and start talking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all of you who have responded so kindly to my Blake fic. I'm grateful for your kind words and encouragement. Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans.


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